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were busy on. those locations clearing away the debris and
digging for foundations. There would be new warehouses.

On good afternoons men would pause on the pavements
opposite those blackened areas, leaning against the barriers
and peering, men wearing overalls, men with lean, red, raw-
boned, weathered faces and long moustaches. Or a single
rider, booted and black-coated, would draw rein there and
stare at the piles of brick and rubbish, at the workmen bent
over their occupations, and at the soldiers. Then such a rider
would lift his rein and move slowly off. But those other
men would lean at the barriers, singly or in groups, and
peer. Sometimes one of them would call to a guard, " Sojer,
whut you a-doen here?" Or, "Little sojer-boy, you better
git home to yore mammy, er she won't have no little sojer-

"Get on off, get on off," the guards would say when the
watchers came in past the outer barrier. "Get on off, you
can't stop here."

Sullenly, the watchers would withdraw.

Mr. Munn saw the soldiers at their camp. Sometimes he
would pause, when he had occasion to go to the depot, and
watch them about their affairs over in the little park. Watch-
ing them, he once thought of a time when he had been
camping with some boys, a long time back, when he was ten
or twelve years old. One of the boys, little Bill Christian, he
rememberedóand thought of that little girl, almost a baby,
who would not come clearly to his mind, who now was
Lucille Christian, Lucille Christian who had laid her finger
on his lips and said, " Hush, hush," in the dark, who was out
there now, in that house with the sound of that rasping
breath in the next roomólittle Bill Christian had had a tent,
and the boys had camped in the tent. Across the park,
among their little tents, the soldiers laughed and talked.

Or he saw the soldiers on the street, and looked quickly
and curiously at their faces, trying to wrench out a secret, as
it were, as he had looked at the faces of those people who
had come to his office with their troubles, as he had looked